


Please, Please, Please

by ithilien22



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 22:52:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ithilien22/pseuds/ithilien22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac stopped wanting things a long time ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please, Please, Please

The night Derek kicks him out, Isaac doesn't go straight to the McCall house. At first, he's too stunned to do more than just sit outside the loft and go over Derek's words again and again - all of their conversations over the past week, the past month - trying to figure out what he had done to screw it all up. When he does eventually force himself to start walking, he heads in the opposite direction on purpose, hoping another alternative will come to him if he just keeps moving. Of course, there isn't any alternative ("I guess that makes me lucky, " he remembers saying once, "'cause I don't have anyone.") , so all he ends up accomplishing is being three hours wetter and more pathetic when he finally shows up at Scott's door, where he knew he'd end up all along.

The thing is, living with Scott and Melissa is so good he aches with it sometimes. He knows he's in over his head from the very first night, when Melissa shows him to the guest bedroom and actually apologizes to him. "Sorry in advance for that mattress, Isaac," she says, smiling ruefully as she sets a pair of clean towels down on the dresser, "It's been here almost as long as Scott has and I know it's not the most comfortable." A week and a half later - because he's still there, of course, taking up space and eating her food and getting her son in trouble at school - he comes upstairs one night to find that she's replaced it with a brand new one. He's so angry he smashes a lamp against the wall and then feels even worse, looking down at all the shattered pieces. Scott comes running in at the sound - "dude, are you OK?" - and helps him clean it up. He doesn't know how to make them understand. 

Eventually, he starts to get used to it - that's the worst part, really. He stops flinching when Melissa ruffles his hair on the way out the door. He starts to catch himself thinking things like "home" and "family" when he leaves his thoughts unguarded. Instead of feeling pathetically hopeful every time he goes over to the loft, he starts to feel a gnawing worry deep in his gut, actually dreading a conversation where Derek might invite him back (not "home," not anymore).

After Boyd dies, the nightmares get worse to the point where he eventually just stops sleeping altogether. It's not a sustainable plan, though, and by the sixth night he jerks away from the glass shattering above him to find that he's actually alone in Scott's living room. Usually waking up is enough, but the lack of sleep makes it worse and he can't seem to catch his breath. He sits on the couch trying and failing to suck in air, his chest growing tighter, his head spinning. Somehow he ends up in Scott's room, and the other boy jerks awake to the sound of Isaac's rasping cries, too scared now to be embarrassed. Scott takes control immediately, his voice and his hands soothing away the panic attack so quickly it's almost comical. 

"I used to do this for Stiles sometimes," he admits with a sleepy smile, his hand still tracing circles along Isaac's spine. Isaac shrugs him off and pulls away, standing.

"Sorry," he mumbles, holding his elbows to his chest and looking anywhere but Scott's face.

"Dude, don't worry about it." If anything, Scott mostly just looks confused. He reaches out and grasps Isaac's forearm, pulling him back toward the bed. 

When Isaac hesitates, he tugs a little harder and says, "you look exhausted, man, come on."

He tells himself that's the reason he lets Scott pull him back down, tugging the covers over both of them before snuggling back into his pillow. He's still gripping Isaac's forearm, like he hasn't thought to let go, and it should be weird or awkward, but instead it's nice and warm and safe (just like everything else in this house). When Isaac wakes again, it's almost midday and he doesn't remember any of his dreams.

Apparently, Melissa's on an evening shift, because she's in her scrubs and is practically halfway out the door by the time he makes it downstairs. When she sees him, she cocks an eyebrow and says, "Sleep well?"

He feels his face flush all the way to his ears, and he's too busy looking at the floor to see Scott come into the foyer. "Mom! I already told you what happened," he gripes, and Isaac's head snaps up at that, just in time to see her roll her eyes at her son.

"Uh huh," she responds dryly, "Just like you and Allison just "fell asleep" that time she stayed over."

Scott's frantic, "Mom!" sounds a little more affronted this time and he huffs as she kisses his temple and grabs her keys. She ruffles Isaac's hair as she heads out, just like always, and he literally has no idea what his heart is doing right now.

"She was kidding," Scott assures him after the door clicks behind her. 

Isaac nods, willing his heart to slow down to a normal rate. After a beat of silence, Scott shoves against his shoulder, smiling in a way that can't help but be contagious. "She really was kidding, man. Don't worry."

Isaac nods again, feeling a hesitant smile grow to mirror Scott's grin. Part of him still sort of wants to shake Scott, to tell him how stupid and wonderful and wrong this whole thing is, how he's not worth it, really. He doesn't, of course, but maybe the look on his face says some of it for him, because Scott pushes his shoulder again and says, softer, "I'm really glad you're here, Isaac."

Isaac thinks about how he felt when he woke up this morning, warm in Scott's bed. He feels the stray curl against his ear where Melissa had mussed it before she left. He doesn't think there are words big enough to describe how much wants this. 

"Yeah," he settles on, finally. "Me too."


End file.
